Why Trying to Be Less Awkward Never Works

You know that thing where someone is walking toward you, and you move one way but so do they, then you move the other way but so do they, and you repeat this dance until, inevitably, one of you says, “Shall we dance?”

Awkward moments like these can be panic-inducing, and judging by the number of books and articles and videos on awkwardness that have popped up in recent years, this is far from a unique worry. So many of these try to help by offering outrageously specific advice. Don’t let a conversational silence last longer than four seconds. Memorize this easy formula for politely ending a conversation: “Content Summary Statement, Justification, Positive Affect Statement, Continuity, and Well-Wishing.” Tilt your head and point your feet toward people you’re talking to, in order to show them that you’re interested in what they’re saying.

There is something soothing about this kind of prescriptive advice, especially because it’s so often backed by the sweet certainty of studies. Do exactly this, this and this, and you’ll never feel awkward again! And yet in practice, wouldn’t focusing so closely on your movements and your words only make you feel that much more self-conscious?

It’s a version of something psychology researchers call explicit monitoring theory, a concept that’s often applied to athletics. The gist is this: Focusing on the details is a good way for newbies to learn the basics of some skill or sport. But when expert athletes think too hard about what they’re doing, that can cause them to screw up. Psychologists have a nifty little questionnaire intended to gauge how likely people are to choke under pressure; those who are tend to be more likely to agree with statements like these:

“I’m self-conscious about the way I look when I’m moving.”

“I am concerned about what people think about me when I am moving.”

“If I see my reflection in a shop window, I will examine my movements.”

But this theory in psychology is a useful concept for the self-conscious nonathlete, too, in part because it offers a new way to think about self-consciousness itself. It does not exist to torture you. It exists to help you learn.

If “you’re learning tennis, of course as the beginner, you have to think about, ‘Where do I put my feet? How do I hold my racket?’” said Roy Baumeister, a social psychologist at Florida State University, whose research on this subject has helped shaped the theory. You start by focusing on the details: Stand right here. Hold this like this.

“So if you don’t know how to act in a job interview, then having a reminder to tell you, ‘O.K., sit up, make eye contact’ — all these things are likely to be helpful,” Mr. Baumeister said. When you’re new to something, it’s often necessary to zero in on the minutiae of what to say and how to act.

“But over time, it becomes more and more automatic, and you even lose awareness of what you’re doing,” Mr. Baumeister said.

An unfortunate thing about being human is that nerves have a way of narrowing your attention in on yourself, even if you entered a party without intending to mentally monitor your every word and movement.

“When we are anxious, we turn our attention inward, to, ‘Am I coming across O.K.?’ Or, ‘They just shifted in their seat, does that mean they’re bored?’ Or, ‘Oh my gosh, what I just said sounds totally stupid, why did I say that?’” said Ellen Hendriksen, a clinical psychologist at Boston University’s Center for Anxiety and Related Disorders. She’s also the author of the upcoming book “How to Be Yourself,” which is about social anxiety.

The problem is that our brains can attend to only so much at once, said Sian Beilock, a cognitive scientist and the president of Barnard College. Think of that awkward elevator ride you shared with your company’s C.E.O. and your mind blanked on the simplest things because you were trying so hard to think of something to say. (How do elevator buttons work again?)

“We only have a limited ability to focus on things, which is why driving and talking on a cellphone is not a good idea, because it takes your focus away,” said Ms. Beilock, whose research on explicit monitoring theory helped inspire her 2010 book on the subject, “Choke.” Trying to do something while worrying about how you’re doing it is like doing two things at once, she said. One of those things is going to suffer.

But the question remains: Why can’t we stop being so awkward? Hard as we try to “solve” that problem, it’s kind of the wrong approach. Rather than ask, “Why am I so awkward?” ask yourself, “What am I focusing on?” Much of the time, our awkwardness is self-induced because we’re overthinking our behavior so much that it becomes our only focus. Dr. Hendriksen has a little experiment she sometimes asks her social anxiety patients to try.

“Have two separate conversations — and it could be with anybody. It could be with a guy at the gas station, or a co-worker or your barista. Whoever,” she said. “And in one of those conversations, focus on you, you, you. Focus on how you’re coming across, what’s happening in your body, monitor what you’re saying.

“And then, in the second conversation, focus on them, them, them,” she said.

Afterward, ask yourself: Which conversation was more pleasant? And in which did you feel more at ease?

“Inevitably, the second conversation is the one in which people feel most comfortable,” she said.

It also helps to borrow another idea from the world of athletics: Keep your mind on the goal, not the process. To avoid the self-focus vortex in a job interview, for example, instead focus on the three things you’d like to get across.

“You can focus on that rather than how you’re moving your mouth or how you’re holding your hands,” Ms. Beilock said.

You know what else helps? Lightening up.

“I think all the rules not only take up all our bandwidth, but I also think it sets this unattainable standard of, ‘O.K., I have to stand in a power pose and make eye contact and speak slowly,’” Dr. Hendriksen said. “And I think it creates this idea that if you don’t do all these things perfectly, that you will fail.”

It’s O.K. to lower your standards a tiny bit. You will spill wine on someone. Someone else will spill wine on you. You will live. But you’d live a little happier through these moments if you could also get yourself to laugh at them.

Correction:

An earlier version of this article misspelled the surname of a clinical psychologist. She is Ellen Hendriksen, not Hendrickson.